An Earful of Nothing
by mandaree1
Summary: The teenagers, fearful of breaking the fragile peace between themselves in the KND by admitting their own lack of numbers, are desperately searching for new members. Numbuh 313, a twelve year old girl who is in danger of being decommissioned early due to an injury that's led to a slight disadvantage on the battlefield, fits the bill.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kids Next Door!**

 **Title: An Earful Of Nothing**

 **Summary: The teenagers, fearful of breaking the fragile peace between themselves in the KND by admitting their own lack of numbers, are desperately searching for new members. Numbuh 313, a twelve year old girl whose in danger of being decommissioned early due to an injury that's led to a slight disadvantage on the battlefield, fits the bill.**

 **...**

Numbuh 313 quietly watched as the realms of space flew by, weapon hanging somberly in her hands. The ship felt quieter than usual, but that was probably just her.

Numbuh 331, the newest member of the sector, as well as her younger brother, bounced on his heels, weapons jiggling carelessly in his grasp. 313 bit her lip, ignoring the strong urge to rip the tool out of his hands to check the safety; or, better yet, the ammo. She couldn't be the overprotective sister forever.

"Focus." She quietly set a hand on his shoulder. "We have a prisoner on board, after all."

331 sobered immediately, becoming as still as possible. "Sorry."

She scanned his short brown hair and bright brown eyes, face dusted with freckles. He looked both terrified and excited all at once.

 _This is how missions will always go_. She yearned to tell him. _You'll understand one day. Or you'll get hurt like me._

313 mentally shook herself. She didn't have a right to complain; the mission had gone well and she'd successfully saved fellow members of the Kids Next Door from danger. She'd done the job she'd set out to do.

"It's okay." She said finally, turning away. "Just be more careful next time."

Her brother gently prodded her elbow sometime later. She looked at him.

"We're landing in ten."

"I know." She nodded at the countdown clock centered in the ship's dashboard. "I can read."

313 nudged him playfully and fell silent.

Their captive, a large teenage boy with short blond hair, lumbered in front of them, but behind the rest of their sector. 313 thought he was being rather quiet, but maybe it was just her angle. She couldn't see his lips from here, and he didn't seem to prefer yelling like some of the other teens they'd fought during her two years as an operative.

 _I'm not going to be an operative much longer if I keep messing up_. She thought with a twinge of fear, glancing at her brother. _I wish I could talk to him, but he'd think I'm just being paranoid._

Numbuh 571- the current supreme leader of the KND- walked up to them, looking vaguely impressed. His skin was dark, with short curly hair on his head and a set of sunglasses on his face. He held his hands behind his back and nodded to them in greeting.

"Congratulations, Sector O." He rumbled. "We'll send him to the brig for questioning."

Two guards snatched the teen away from her teammates, stiffly waiting for the chance to be dismissed.

571 turned an eye to 331, who was hovering anxiously by 313's side. "Congratulations, kid. You're an official member of the Kids Next Door now."

His eyes glowed. "Thank you, Boxer." He breathed. "It's an honor."

Boxer, of course, was his first name, but she wasn't personally close enough to him to call him by said name.

The leader eyed her with a look of mild interest. "Good hustle, 313. No reports of getting in anybody's way is a good place to start."

She felt a flash of rage run through her. _How would you feel if your ears got messed up?_ "Thank you, sir." She said through gritted teeth.

313 didn't need to have perfect hearing to know that her teammates exchanged an uncertain glance, and- judging by the look her brother shot over his shoulder- the two guards holding the teen, and maybe even the teen himself, had started snickering.

 _I've been an operative for two years now_. She thought with despair. _And this is the thanks I get_?

Her brother had mostly brushed off the comment, instead lashing out at their fellow operatives, but 313 knew who the real bully was here.

"You're dismissed." 571 nodded to the guards, taking his place in the front to properly lead the captive away. "You're free to go home."

Sector O saluted and filed towards their ride home in a single line, 313 in the back. Glancing behind her, she caught Boxer saying something involving a 'deaf girl' and 'decommission' to the guards, who chuckled and nodded.

She bristled. _I have to be reading his lips wrong. 571 may be a jerk, but he wouldn't say stuff like that when he knows I'm nearby, would he? Operatives aren't supposed to be decommissioned before they turn thirteen!_

The teenager glanced at her over his shoulder and nodded. He'd heard it too.

More worried than ever, 313 could barely put one foot in front of the other. Sure, her performance had faltered since the 2X4 weapon that was thrown too close to her had exploded and damaged her hearing, but she was still a loyal KND member! She could still go on missions! It wasn't like her hearing was completely gone; loud shouting and the sounds of weapons still broke through.

The sounds of battle.

331 stopped her with a hand to her arm. "Sis, are you okay?"

She waited until the rest of their sector was out of earshot before slowly kneeling, putting her hands on each of his shoulders to see his answer better. "Brent, have you heard anything about decommissioning?" _About_ my _decommissioning?_

He tilted his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

She hesitated a long moment before shaking her head and standing up. "Nevermind. It's nothing."

He opened his mouth to ask further, but 313 had walked away, so she wouldn't hear anyway, not unless he wanted to make their talk public. He shook his head and trailed after her.

 **Author's Note: If it wasn't obvious, 313 has permanent partial deafness. She can hear, but only if it's incredibly loud. She can tell what 571 is saying despite her teammates being unable to because she can read lips.**

 **I have to say, this is my first KND story, so it should be... interesting.**

 **Also, names below;**

 **313- unknown- age 12**

 **331- Brent- age 10**

 **571- Unknown; goes by Boxer.- age unknown**

 **No flames! Don't like don't read! Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Codename; Kids Next Door!**

 **Title: An Earful Of Nothing**

 **Summary: The teenagers, fearful of breaking the fragile peace between themselves in the KND by admitting their own lack of numbers, are desperately searching for new members. Numbuh 313, a twelve year old girl who is in danger of being decommissioned early due to an injury that's led to a slight disadvantage on the battlefield, fits the bill.**

 **...**

 **ShugoYuuki123 \- No, they're still going by the treaty, but the odd teenage prankster pops up and makes things difficult. =) As for hearing aids (something that didn't occur to me until you brought it up, actually), she _could_ technically get them, but there's plenty of reasons not to; they're too expensive, 571 might not _want_ to equip her with any 2X4 tech when it can be used for other things, she just might not like them (some people never get aids, simply because they don't want them), etc.**

 **...**

Clutching the report file to her side, Numbuh 313 briskly made her way down the hall. 571 had said something about questioning the prisoner, so it would only make sense that he would be down there, right? It wouldn't hurt to ask the prisoner what all he'd heard, either.

The elevator taking her to the lower levels of the moon base dinged, something she remembered but could no longer hear personally. It wasn't in her top ten list of favorite missed sounds (Brent's laughter, her own voice, and so on and so forth) so she wasn't particularly bothered by the silence she heard- or, better yet, didn't hear- as the doors slid open.

The blond teenager from the day before, situated in the third cell from the door, jerked his head up to meet her eye. "Oh, it's you. You here to question me?"

"I should hope not." She grunted, immediately losing her nerve on asking him about 571's words. She shifted the folder to her other arm. "That's Numbuh 571's job. I'm here to file a report."

The teen blinked at her, nonplussed. "Is '571' the guy who had me put down here?"

"He's the supreme leader of the Kids Next Door." She answered. "So, yes."

"I see." He leaned back against the wall of his cell. "So he's the one who's having you decommissioned."

313 stiffened. "I've yet to receive proper notification of that."

"That doesn't mean much around here, I'm guessing." He mused, eyebrow raised. "I'll admit, I skipped out on the whole Kids Next Door experience, but I know the rules, and I seriously doubt you're old enough to be a pre-teen."

She stared at him a long moment before reluctantly cupping her ears. "My ears are damaged."

"And suddenly you're not even good enough for paperwork?" He asked. 313 bit her lip; he had a point.

"Wait..." She jerked away. "You're a teenager! You may be our allies, but you're still almost adults. I can't trust you."

He stood and stuck his hand through the bars. "Let's start over. I'm Jess."

She glared at his hand suspiciously before reaching out to grab it. "I'm Numbuh 313."

Jess jerked his arm back. "I'm not Kids Next Door. Teens don't go by _numbers_. Once more, from the top." He brought his hand back out. "Jess. What's your name?"

313 stared at him a bit longer before mentally shaking himself. "I'm Harley."

They shook on it. "Nice to meet you, Harley. Tell me, are you _really_ going to let that guy push you into losing your memories because of a little hearing problem?"

She met his gaze steadily. "I'm almost completely deaf. That's not 'little.'"

"Almost, but not completely." Jess pointed out. "Heck, this could even work as an advantage. No worries about you flinching away from all sorts of noises."

313 looked at him blankly, un-amused.

The teen shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, I can try. You ever think about quitting?"

"And be decommissioned early?" She stared at him in shock.

"That guy is planning on doing just that, and you didn't even quit!"

313 felt tempted to remind him that 'that guy' was the main reason he was sitting in the cell he was currently arguing with her from the inside of in the first place. She decided against it.

"Look, just meet me outside of the high school on Saturday." He insisted. "I'll show you our base."

 _That_ got her attention. "You'd show me your base?"

Jess shrugged. "Why not? Teens and kids are allies- for the most part. Other than the odd troublemaker like me, we leave you alone, and vice versa. If you don't want to join, then you've got some info for your sector buddies. Deal?"

"But how will you do it?" She asked rhetorically. "You're in jail."

"You guys can't keep me in here forever; my folks'll freak." He answered calmly. "Besides, as good as you are with 2X4 technology, you KND suck at building good locks."

A lone thought flashed through her mind. _What would Brent think?_

"Numbuh 313!" A voice called, but she didn't hear. A hand grabbed her by the shoulder and whipped her around.

"Huh?" She blinked. It was a guard. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

The guard shook his head. "This teen giving you trouble, 313?" He asked, in a tone of voice louder than strictly necessary. She noticed Jess's glare out of the corner of her eye; the only reason she knew he'd done it in the first place.

 _This guy thinks I'm dumb!_

"No." She said eventually, exchanging a glance with the teen. He looked surprisingly earnest about the whole thing. Her fingers gripped the folder, crinkling the pages. "I was just leaving."

 **Author's Note: Hopefully longer chapters will come soon. Just wanted to get this out for some more context.**

 **313- Harley- age 12**

 **331- Brent- age 10**

 **571- Name unknown; "Boxer"- age unknown**

 **Jess- age 15**

 **No flames! Don't like don't read! Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Codename; Kids Next Door!**

 **Title: An Earful Of Nothing**

 **Summary: The teenagers, fearful of breaking the fragile peace between themselves in the KND by admitting their own lack of numbers, are desperately searching for new members. Numbuh 313, a twelve year old girl who is in danger of being decommissioned early due to an injury that's led to a slight disadvantage on the battlefield, fits the bill.**

 **...**

 **ShugoYuuki123 \- They characters we know will be mentioned in passing once or twice, but they won't be in the story directly, no. This is, quite literally, the next generation of KND. =) (This story is actually a side-prologue to a story I'll write eventually, in which both Harley and Brent will make appearances, although they're far from main characters.)**

 **Catspats31 \- I hate to disappoint, Catspats, but they won't be. As I said above; next generation, different character. Not even the next gen Sector V (which is a canon thing in the show, I'm well aware) will make an appearance. Don't like, don't read has nothing to do with criticism. It's a statement that, if I, say, put a 'gay characters' warning in the top of the story and that's not your thing, for pete's sake, find a different story. Don't read it just to flame me unnecessarily. (please note that I see flames and criticism as two very different things.)**

 **...**

Crouching in some bushes beside the looming figure of the high school- a two-story, brick walled, imposing place she'd heard more than a few horror stories about- 313 felt her mind be consumed with doubt, like a dam of water finally breaking free.

All her life, she'd dreamed of being a Kids Next Door operative. Didn't everybody? Going on missions, saving the day, teaching rookies; the day she'd been given the title of Numbuh 313 had easily been the best one of her short life.

That was two years ago, and dreams, however nice, had a habit of not holding up to reality. Most of her missions felt like wild goose chases, with very few ever yielding something useful. Her sector was strong, but she'd quickly realized that they weren't the next Sector V. Rookies never listened to her, and she could practically _feel_ the insults they threw at her when her eyes were drawn away from their faces.

Despite this, 313 had never doubted their goal; to keep the more evil adults away from children. Any evil adult activity immediately had to contend with swarms of Kids Next Door members, and children who couldn't escape the evil were given sanctuary at the moon base. They were given new identities, along with basic survival skill and fighting knowledge. A few even went on to become operatives, and some, legends told, became supreme leaders. No one could doubt the good that went on amongst all the craziness.

Her trust in the Kids Next Door's goal had yet to be shaken, but how could they hope to _achieve_ that goal with operatives like 571 leading the way?

 _But he won't be leader for forever_ , she reminded herself. No one was sure of his age, exactly, but he had to be creeping up on thirteen by now. A game of tag would be played soon enough, and a new leader chosen.

 _But I'll be decommissioned by that point._ She thought, turning away. _This is stupid. I should just go home and take my chances with 571._

A hand gently grabbed her shoulder and pushed her out of the bushes. "Hey."

Numbuh 313, busy rolling onto her rear, doesn't catch the greeting. "How did you know I was there?"

Jess, wearing a jacket and jeans- a far cry from the padded all-black outfit they'd caught him in- smiled reassuringly. "You thought this might be an ambush, didn't you? I figured you'd hide, if only to be safe."

She felt the urge to defend herself, but swallowed any retorts she could have said. Having a need to ensure her safety wasn't a bad thing.

"I'm not trying to restart the war." Jess told her, leading her gently towards the back doors of the building. "Just give a tour."

Pulling out a key from a chain around his neck ("Special edition- I'll give you one if you join, I promise.") Jess calmly unlocked the doors and led her down the empty halls of the high school.

313 glanced around, taking in the long hallways, rows of lockers, and cold floors. "I've never been inside the high school before." She admitted. "Is it true that the detention hall is just a cover-up for chemical-altering obedience testing?"

"No, but it feels like it sometimes." He chuckled, giving her a curious glance. "You've never been here before? Not even for missions?"

She shrugged. "My sector typically focuses on space-related missions. Tracking down escaping bounty hunters and doing the odd patrol at the moon base. That type of thing."

"Sounds... boring." He stated flatly.

"Time consuming, mostly." She agreed, in her own way. "Not as much action as you'd think."

"Huh." Jess mused. "My team focuses mostly on raids. We're the guys who rescue captured teens." He paused. "Of course, things have been peaceful lately, so we've been left mostly to just prank people, but, hey. It's fun."

Numbuh 313 stopped in her tracks, suddenly nervous. "Your _team_ won't be at the base, will they?"

"Probably. We spend most of our time there." He shrugged. "I already told them about you, so no worries."

 _That's plenty to worry about!_ She thought crossly, lagging behind. Jess started to walk backwards so she could see his face.

"Where is this base, anyway?" She asked, forcing herself to calm down. She could fight off a horde of teenagers, if need be. She had nothing to fear.

Jess gestured to a door with no sign on it. 313 was reminded of the janitor's closet, only dirtier.

"Only big teams get those awesome bases." He explained. "We're left to snag what we can."

He held the door open for her. 313 stepped inside. "It looks like a..."

"Boiler room? More or less." He excitedly led her down the steps to the room below. "We like cliches around here. Hey, guys, you down there?"

313 didn't hear a reply as they reached the landing, too busy looking around. The room was entirely concrete, with a small closet in the back. It was warm, but not hot. She made a note to wear shorter sleeves next time.

If _there's a next time_ , she told herself.

Two old black couches lay in the middle of the room, flanked by a coffee table filled with magazines and video games.

Out of the closet came a taller boy with light brown skin and brown hair that covered his eyes, dressed in loose pants and a white and green t-shirt. 313 could clearly see that the space had been made larger on the inside and renovated to properly hold weapons of all sorts. From the couch a smaller Spanish girl set a magazine down and stood up, eyeing her with interest.

"Is this her?" She asked Jess, who nodded. She stuck her hand out with a reassuring grin. "Hey."

"Uh, hi." She hesitantly stepped forward. "I'm Num-" When the blonde boy nudged her, she glanced at him, realized her mistake, and cleared her throat. "Harley. I'm Harley."

"Rosie." She greeted, shaking hands firmly. "And this is Curls."

Curls nodded in greeting. "Hey."

313 turned to Jess. "This is your whole team?"

"Yup." He grinned. "Pretty sweet, huh, Laugh?"

"Sure, I guess. It's a bit small though, isn't it?" She paused. "Wait. Laugh?"

"Yeah." He said softly. "People always shorten Harley to Har. You know, har-har? Like laughter?"

Rosie, meanwhile, had tensed up. Curls exchanged a look with the girl. "Are you sure she's old enough?" She demanded, looking to Jess, whom it was becoming more and more apparent was the leader.

"No." He admitted. "She's twelve. But, get this; they're decommissioning her _early._ Because she's _deaf_."

"Seriously?" Curls stared at him. "But it's not a big deal. It's not like she can't do recon or undercover missions."

"Numbuh 571 thinks otherwise." Numbuh 313 cut in, arms crossed. "Just because I can't see the whole conversation _doesn't_ mean I can't tell you're talking about me."

Rosie laughed. "I like you, Harley. You should stay."

"Definitely." Curls agreed, smiling.

"I wish I could." 313 said, and found she wasn't lying. She felt comfortable here, and could easily see herself becoming friends with these people, even if their youngest, Rosie, looked to only be around fourteen. "But... my brother..."

"Was he the guy you were talking to?" Jess asked gently. She nodded.

"I can't imagine how Brent would feel if I did this- if I _betrayed_ the Kids Next Door. He'd think I was a coward, and I don't want to live like that."

"Wouldn't he see you as a coward anyway?" He prodded. "Lying down and letting Boxer stomp all over you like this?"

 _He must have heard Brent call him by his nickname_ , she thought, vaguely surprised. She realized there wasn't a real answer to that question. At least, not one she could name.

"It's a tough call, kiddo. We get it." Rosie put a hand on her shoulder. "Just think it over, okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

* * *

The Richen household was brightly lit when she arrived, opening and shutting the door quietly behind her. It was getting dark out, she noticed, pulling off her jacket.

"Sorry I was out later than usual, mom." She called into the kitchen, already halfway up the stairs. She was probably wiped out from work; Harley wouldn't bother her. "I lost track of time."

She wanted to go to her room- last door on the left, with her brother's next door- but Brent stood in her way, bouncing on his heels with excitement.

"I got to go on another mission!"

Harley blinked at him a long moment, realized he was looking for her approval, and smiled. "Congrats, Brent. I'm proud of you."

His grin somehow managed to get bigger. "I wish you'd been there. It was awesome."

"Yeah, me too." She lied. For once, she found she honestly didn't care about going on missions. "Maybe next time."

He paused. "That reminds me! Boxer said he wanted to talk to you."

She tensed. "About what?"

"He didn't say. But it was important. I could tell."

 _It's finally happening_ , she thought. "Okay. I'll go see him tomorrow."

He faltered. "But-"

"If it was an emergency, he'd have sent someone to find me. It won't kill him to wait." She patted his shoulder and headed to her room. Goodnight, Brent."

He blinked at her retreated form. "Night, sis."

 **Author's Note: Let it be said that the KND operatives don't typically go by their Numbuhs at home.**

 **Poor Harley. The girl can't catch a break. And, yes, their last name is Richen.**

 **One more age/name thingy for now;**

 **Numbuh 313- Harley Richen- age twelve.**

 **Numbuh 331- Brent Richen- age ten.**

 **Numbuh 571- Unknown; 'Boxer'- suspected of being close to thirteen.**

 **Jess- age 15.**

 **Rosie- age fourteen.**

 **Curls- age unknown.**

 **No flames! Don't like don't read! Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Codename; Kids Next Door**

 **Title: An Earful Of Nothing**

 **Summary: The teenagers, fearful of breaking the fragile peace between themselves in the KND by admitting their own lack of numbers, are desperately searching for new members. Numbuh 313, a twelve year old girl who is in danger of being decommissioned early due to an injury that's led to a slight disadvantage on the battlefield, fits the bill.**

 **...**

 **Shugoyuuki123 \- Right. The fighting's over. =)**

 **...**

Numbuh 313 felt a prick of anxiety as she made her way to 571's meeting room.

Which path was better; surrender or betrayal? If she surrendered, her name would quickly be forgotten. If she joined the teens, she would go down in infamy.

 _It doesn't matter either way_ , she realized, a chill creeping down her spine. _Everybody forgets when they turn thirteen._ _My name will fade no matter what I do to try and salvage it._

With that in mind, she took a deep breath and steeled her shoulders, hands on the doorknob that would, more or less, lead to her downfall.

Despite all of this, she felt rather calm. She knew what was going to happen. This wasn't some big, random surprise. She'd made her bed, and now she was going to sleep on it.

She tugged open the doors, pleasantly surprised to see the room was empty, save for the obligatory guard. At least he'd had the decency to make it a private affair.

"Numbuh 313." Numbuh 571 dipped his head in greeting. "You took your time."

"I'm sorry, 571." She lied, not meaning it for a second. "But I have a family."

He grunted in acknowledgement. "Priorities, I suppose." He mused, not sounding convinced. "I've called you here-"

"I know why you sent for me." She stated; the better to avoid long-winded, unnecessary introductions.

571 merely raised an eyebrow. "Do you?" She didn't need to hear to know his tone was disbelieving. Scathing, perhaps.

It suddenly occurred to her to wonder just how loud his voice was. There was no one around for her to judge the volume of his voice off of their reactions. She felt a sudden pang of resentment towards the boy; he was closing in on thirteen, yet no one was the least bit interested in his decommissioning. Everyone, it seemed, was invested in hers, and she was still young!

"You want to have me decommissioned."

"You've come to the end of your usefulness." He justified, voice smooth, without so much as a hint of regret. "Now all you're doing is holding your sector back."

Jess' words suddenly came back to her. "So, I'm suddenly not even good enough to do paperwork?"

He glanced at her over the rim of his glasses. "We don't have a lot of paperwork to do around here. It'd be a waste."

She found herself shaking with anger. "You know, I tried. I really did. I worked my butt off, trying to gain the approval of the Kids Next Door after my accident. Gain _your_ approval."

"Numbuh 313-" He started, but she didn't want to listen.

"I stopped being Numbuh 313 the moment you lost faith in me!" She pointed at him, eyes blazing. "The moment the KND became willing to toss me aside was the moment I stopped being a real operative."

She tilted her head up. "My name is Harley Richen." She said, sounding far calmer than she really felt. "Give the number 313 to another outcast; somebody trying to prove themselves. It's not mine to keep. I'm a rogue now."

Harley whipped around and stomped towards the door. The guard stood in her way, but his eyes were bright with awe. He was clearly impressed. He looked like a rookie; she could easily take him.

She glanced coolly at 571. "Call him off."

"Your decommissioning." He prompted. He still hadn't moved. Boxer looked honestly surprised that someone dared defy him.

"I'm twelve. I'm leaving." She answered, clenching her fists. "I'll fight my way out, if I have to."

He stared at her a long moment before nodding to the boy. "She doesn't know anything worth erasing."

She wants, so much, to tell him she knew everything. She knows about the Galactic KND and the TND and more than a few undercover operative's names, simply because people have begun to underestimate her and she knows how to read lips. But she won't press her luck further tonight.

Harley strode out of the room with her head held high.

"Wait!" A hand clutched her shoulder. She spun around, ready for a fight, but it's just the guard.

"That was amazing!" He exclaimed, eyes shinning. "I've never seen anyone stand up to 571 like that before."

Harley glanced away, still half turned towards him so she could see what he was saying. "He deserved it. He never had the right to force that on me."

"I'm Numbuh 456." He pressed his chin to his chest shyly. "And I hope I'm at least half the operative you were, ms. Harley."

She doesn't really know what to say to that. "Uh... good luck, I guess."

"I'll never forget what you said!" He called out as she turned and walked away, unaware that she couldn't hear him. "I'm make sure that a good operative gets the number 313, I promise!"

 **Author's Note: Remember what I said about this being a branching story to another one I wanted to write someday? Yeah. This is important. One of the main characters will go by the number 313; Harley's original number.**

 **Also, remember 456. He'll show up again someday.**

 **-mandaree1**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Codename; Kids Next Door!**

 **Title: An Earful Of Nothing**

 **Summary: The teenagers, fearful of breaking the fragile peace between themselves in the KND by admitting their own lack of numbers, are desperately searching for new members. Numbuh 313, a twelve year old girl who is in danger of being decommissioned early due to an injury that's led to a slight disadvantage on the battlefield, fits the bill.**

 **...**

 **ShugoYuuki123 \- Yup, plenty of adult fighting. No peace treaty there. =) Boxer needed it.**

 **nightmaster000 \- Thanks!**

 **...**

Harley didn't bother trying to go home just yet, not after what she'd done, instead heading straight for the high school. The back door is unlocked, which she took as a good sign that they'd be there.

For a brief second she considered just busting into their hideout in the boiler room, but ultimately shook the thought away. It wouldn't be very polite. Besides, who knows what they were doing behind those doors? It's best to give them time to stash anything that shouldn't be there, for everyone's sake.

Harley knocked.

Curls opened the door seconds later, smiling. It was obvious they had nothing to hide in his slumped posture and friendly demeanor. That, or he was really good at hiding it. "Hey."

"Hey. Can I... come in?"

He stepped aside so she could get through. "'Course."

Jess greeted her at the bottom of the stairs. "Hey, Laugh! Didja think it over?"

"I'm rogue." She stated flatly. "I went rogue, I mean. It's a long story."

The teen blinked at her a long moment before putting his hand on her shoulder. "Let's get you settled in. Then you can tell us what happened."

* * *

Rosie, sitting next to her on the couch, whistled when she finished her story. "Yup. You definitely can't show your face now. And I thought _I_ went out with a bang."

Harley blinked at her. "You were an operative?"

The Hispanic girl shrugged her shoulders, the reminder making her uneasy. "Sort of. I only stayed on for a year, though. My cousin was set on being a teenager from the beginning, and I didn't want to have to fight with her every day. Besides, I have loads more fun here."

Her shoulders sagged, panic rising in her throat. "Brent will never forgive me for this. He's always loved the Kids Next Door."

"I'm sure he'll understand eventually." Curls hummed. "It's not like you _wanted_ to betray them. You didn't have any other choice."

"I always had a choice. I just chose one he wouldn't approve of."

"You chose what worked best for you." Jess answered firmly. "The offer is still on the table, by the way. If you want to be part of an actual team, instead of going it solo. The KND'll be all over you if you aren't careful."

Harley slid off the couch to stand in front of him, suddenly feeling anxious. Being part of a team was simply the easiest answer, and she liked these teens. It wasn't like she had anything to hold her back anymore. "That's why I'm here, actually. If you really don't mind my bad hearing... I'd like to join."

"We'll work with it. It's an advantage, really." Jess promised, smiling. "Welcome to the squad."

"Awesome!" Rosie wrapped her into a hug. "New member!"

Curls held his hand out for a fist bump. "Cool."

"But, first things first." Jess patted her shoulder to get her attention. "You'd better go home. Your brother deserves to know."

She swallowed, nervous. "Can't I hang around here for a bit?"

"The sooner he knows, the sooner he'll come to terms with it." He answered. She didn't have to hear to imagine the no-nonsense tone to his voice.

Harley sighed, running her hand over her face. "Okay."

"Make sure to come back tomorrow." Curls rumbled. "Celebratory fast food is a go."

"Oh, wait, dude." Rosie rifled through her pockets. "I'm broke. You?"

"Same." The boy paused, looking slightly worried for the first time since they'd met. "Uh, Jess, bro?"

"I'll pay for it." Jess answered, amused. "It's worth it."

* * *

"Mom, I'm home!" Harley called, poking her head into the kitchen. Her mother was busy cooking dinner, face covered by the steam rising from the boiling pot. The woman stepped away from the stove to speak to her properly.

"Hello, honey. How was your day?"

It was nice to talk to someone who didn't immediately see her as a traitor. She got the feeling she was now one of the few that felt that way about her. "Good. What's for dinner?"

"Soup." She answered cheerfully. "By the way, Harley; is something wrong? Your brother came home in a big huff earlier and ran to his room. I tried talking to him, but he won't answer. He said something about you and that Boxer fellow, though."

Fear bubbled up inside of her. _He knows_. Harley was both thankful and not that she didn't have to be the one to tell him. "I dunno, mom. I'll go talk to him."

"Thank you, dear. He's always looked up to you; I'm sure it'll make him feel better." She smiled encouragingly before turning back to dinner.

Harley winced and hesitantly went up the staircase. Brent's door was cracked only slightly, the lights off. Flashes of color from the TV floated through the crack. She wondered what he was watching.

"Brent?" She reached for the door. "Listen, Brent, I-"

Through the silence, a voice managed to break through, too quiet to be discernible, but loud enough for her ears to pick up on. She reared back as though struck.

It was Brent's voice.

Brent had been loud enough for her to hear him.

Brent was _screaming_ at her.

Harley snatched her hand away. Shoulders slumping, she sighed, shook her head, and quietly went to her room, closing and locking the door behind her. It was too late to properly explain. They were enemies now.

 **Author's Note: Harley always tried her hardest for Brent; she always knew he looked up to her. She never wanted to hurt him like this.**

 **First mini-arc is finished! Any headcanons anyone wants to share?**

 **-mandaree1**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Codename; Kids Next Door!**

 **Title: An Earful Of Nothing**

 **Summary: The teenagers, fearful of breaking the fragile peace between themselves in the KND by admitting their own lack of numbers, are desperately searching for new members. Numbuh 313, a twelve year old girl who is in danger of being decommissioned early due to an injury that's led to a slight disadvantage on the battlefield, fits the bill.**

 **...**

 **ShugoYuuki123 \- Unfortunately, some bridges burn easily. =) Brent really looked up to Harley, and she just shattered all his expectations, and not in the good way.**

 **Flowerchild23- It never was.**

 **...**

Harley attempted conversation the next day, but it was useless. Brent wouldn't even look at her.

She couldn't hear, but suddenly the house felt that much more silent.

Word spread through the middle school like wildfire. The girl who betrayed them. Who'd only managed to get away with it on a technicality. Who'd burned bridges with all of kid-kind forever.

She found herself suddenly yearning for the safety of high school. It wouldn't be much better there, true, but she'd at least have the squad to sit with at lunch.

Eventually she cut her last class and began trudging towards the school. The fast food welcome party had somehow turned into an impromptu breakfast together, and the pancakes and eggs felt like a lead weight in her stomach.

"Anybody down here?" She called. A hand shot up from the couch.

Harley clunked down the stairs with a sigh. Jess was probably on some sports team, and, well, Curls was busy doing his own thing, whatever that entailed. It wasn't surprising that they wouldn't be there two minutes after the final bell.

"Hey, kiddo." Rosie glanced at her over her magazine, then sat up with an inaudible whistle. "Dang. Rough day?"

"My own brother ditched me." She responded, wearily climbing onto the couch. Something about the new hideout seemed to soothe her, and she found her shoulders relaxing. "He sat with Sector O at lunch."

"Your old sector?" Rosie asked.

"What else?" Harley threw her hands into the air. "Everybody else either ignores me or hurls spitwads at me."

"Well, you _did_ technically betray _the_ Kids Next Door. You're lucky you're trained, or they might've done worse." She cocked her head to the side. "Your whole sector left you?"

"I specialized in weapons and hand combat, so that's no surprise." She waved the notion of taking a beating aside. Only a select few in the area could claim such a specialization. Weapons and basic hand combat was typically for foot soldiers; it was why she had been on the ground platoon instead of the aerial force during the fateful miss-throw of the 2X4 explosive. "I don't know if they ditched me so much as they're just following orders- ex-operatives aren't supposed to be approached by active operatives, and all that- but I _know_ Brent can still talk to me about little stuff. He's my _brother._ "

Rosie suddenly stood up and stretched. "Alrighty then. I think it's time for your initiation."

Harley blinked at her. "I thought I was already sworn in?"

She grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the stairs with a dismissive gesture. "More or less, yeah. But you're not a real member of the squad until you've done your first prank."

Rosie grinned at her, shark-like.

"But, our job is infiltration-" She gave the girl a small tug to silence her.

"We haven't had a job in ages. Besides, this'll be a good way to relieve some of that anger."

"I'm twelve years old." Harley reminded her. "Do you really think I haven't pulled a prank in all that time?"

"No, but I bet you've never pulled a prank on Sector O, mid-mission." Rosie hummed nonchalantly. Harley pulled away, appalled.

" _You're_ the one who slowed down all our missions?"

"Well, duh." She shrugged. "But it's not like it stopped you, or anything."

Harley paused. In all the two years she'd been a member of Sector O, she couldn't remember a single time their pursuit for justice had been thwarted by a simple prank. She swallowed and nodded. "Alright. Let's do it."

"Atta girl."

* * *

Rosie led her to the roof of the high school without preamble. "Alright, so this mission is an easy one. I thought it'd be best to ease you into it." She pointed to the road that wound past the school. "There's a pizza delivery man who only delivers to adults. Anything for the kids; eats it right up."

She glanced at her to make sure she was following. "Sounds like a really bad business strategy?" Was all Harley had to offer. Rosie laughed.

"No kidding. Anyway, they're gonna lure him past the school for a chase." She ducked behind the stairwell to retrieve a swollen balloon, so big it required both arms to be carried. "And _we're_ gonna splatter 'em."

Harley hesitantly poked the rubbery surface. "What's _in_ that?"

"Washable paint." She replied curtly. "Now, help me get this thing to the splat point."

They perched the balloon precariously over the edge, then crouched down.

"Alright, you do it."

Harley pressed a hand to her chest. "Me?"

"Of course. It's your prank. You decide if you wanna do it or not." Rosie shrugged. "Painting the roads with pink tire tracks from dunking it all over would be pretty awesome too."

Harley shook her head. "No. I'm a teen now. I should be able to do this."

"Teenager does _not_ equal malicious. Remember that." Rosie grunted. "Here they come."

But, this wasn't malicious, she reminded herself.

With that, Harley pushed the balloon over.

She gasped, staring over the edge in horror. "Oh, no! I hit the delivery man!"

"Get down!" Rosie grabbed her by the sleeve and pulled her back to her level. "It's okay, he hit the bushes. He's not hurt."

"You're sure?"

"I can hear him complaining from here. It's okay."

A few kids started shooting at them. Rosie pulled her away from the ledge. "Let's go!"

They scrambled down the stairs, but no one followed. Harley couldn't remember ever following the teens who'd pranked them. They were always too busy.

That'd been her once, she thought, curling her fists. But not anymore.

Harley snuck a glance at Rosie, afraid she'd be angry at her for missing, but the girl was laughing.

"That was perfect." She wiped an eye. "An operative turned traitor, and you're _still_ helping the KND."

She started chuckling as well. "You have a point."

"You feel better?"

"A little." Harley nodded.

"Good." She put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I'd hate for you to start regretting it now."

"I don't." She said, and found she wasn't just talking about the paint-splattered adult. "Not for a second."

 **Author's Note: Harley has finally found a place where she fits in. Who cares if it's with a bunch of troublemakers? =)**

 **-Mandaree1**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own Codename; Kids Next Door!**

 **Title: An Earful Of Nothing**

 **Summary: The teenagers, fearful of breaking the fragile peace between themselves in the KND by admitting their own lack of numbers, are desperately searching for new members. Numbuh 313, a twelve year old girl who is in danger of being decommissioned early due to an injury that's led to a slight disadvantage on the battlefield, fits the bill.**

 **...**

 **nightmaster000 \- Thanks!**

 **Flowerchild23 \- Thanks you!**

 **ShugoYuuki123 \- Maybe, maybe not. Only time will tell.**

 **...**

A couple of days later Curls returned to the base with a self-satisfied smile. He hadn't so much as been mentioned while he was gone, and no one seemed surprised to see him when he returned.

"She's on the list."

Jess let out a whoop. "Awesome!" He grinned in her direction. "Ready to be official, Laugh?"

Harley blinked at him. "I thought I already was official."

"In our squad, yes. But I'm talking globally."

All at once, her palms began to sweat. She vaguely remembered letting out a high-pitched squeak during her introduction to the Kids Next Door and never living it down. "I didn't know they _did_ ceremonies around here."

Rosie looked offended. Maybe she knew what Harley was thinking. "We ain't animals, girl. _Of course_ we celebrate new blood."

They exchanged a glance over her head. Harley wondered if she was somehow supposed to miss it.

"It'll be a small ceremony." Jess assured her. "Just get in, get your armor and tracking device- what? How did you _think_ we kept track of all our members?- and get out."

"It'll do us all some good." Curls hummed. "'S about time you met our leader."

"Are they nice?" She asked hopefully.

Rosie snorted. "A bit tough, but, as a leader, you kinda gotta be. She likes tough kids. She'll like you."

Harley slowly nodded. "Okay. When do we go?"

"This weekend. It's a long ride there and back." Jess sent her an apologetic look. "We don't have any fancy bikes; we're gonna have to bus it."

"Bus it is, then." She replied, resolving not to get car sick. She needed to make a good impression. This wasn't just the squad she was impressing.

She was impressing everyone.

* * *

"A _cave_?"

Harley blinked at the looming walls before her. All throughout the ride, she'd suspected they were going to a house, or maybe even a club, and had been too proud to ask any questions, for fear she'd be perceived as a whiny brat. She glanced down at her thin short-sleeved pink shirt and jeans, wondering if she'd dressed appropriately for this after all.

"Cool lair 101." Curls said. "Gotta be someplace dark and mysterious."

Rosie laughed, hand on her hip. "They sure know how to pick 'em."

"But, wait," Harley glanced at Jess for support, gesturing to the yawning darkness. "Why do they get a _cave_ , while we're stuck with a boiler room?"

Jess, on his part, laughed and shrugged. "On the list of priorities, we're kinda on the low end, Harley. We're not the first or the last squad to take what we can get."

She peered into the depths. "Is that _torch_ light?"

"Yeah, yeah. It's fancy." Rosie snorted. "Now, let's get moving."

Torches lined the cave as they descended. Harley, in the lead, was unaware of any conversation that might be going on behind her. That brief, momentary blackness had terrified her, and she quickly came to understand that while losing one sense was hard, losing two was much worse.

The dirt gave way to metal. The walls and ceiling were lined with silvery gray; the light was electric now, not fire. Down below, through bay windows, she could clearly see a group of armor-clad teenagers training. Another window further down showcased a weapons stockpile, mostly of 2X4 contraband from before the peace treaty was put into effect, dusty and unused.

It was a feeling not unlike her first viewing of the moon base. She felt a pang of sadness; she may have hated parts of her job, but she never fell out of love with the moon base.

Moments like these told her she was a part of something _bigger_. A movement that couldn't be stopped or started by just her alone. The training gave her a sense of commanderie; the weapons made her chest puff out with pride.

She was Harley Richen- and this was where she belonged.

Curls put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't be nervous. Just talk like you normally talk and it'll be fine."

"Okay."

"And don't say 'ma'am', you hear me? She's decked someone for calling her ma'am."

"I don't _hear_ much of anything, but I understand."

He gave her a smile. "Yup. Just fine."

They came upon a throne of metal deep under the ground. Two teen guarded the front doors; two more guarded the back. In the chair sat a girl of Spanish descent, her hair drawn up in a ponytail. Her bangs covered one of her eyes.

She stood up and met them halfway, shoulders straight, head cocked to the side. "This is her? She's a bit younger than I thought."

Jess saluted. "She's twelve."

"Twelve?" She repeated dubiously, then turned to her. "Did they lower the age limit?"

Harley shook her head and stepped forward. "They wanted to decommission me early due to an injury."

"Injury?"

"I lost my hearing."

"I see. You might wanna think about learning sign language, then. It'll make communication easier on the battlefield." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Dukes."

Harley hesitantly took it, certain she'd miss-read her lips. "Did you say... Dukes?"

"Yup." Dukes smirked at her. "Technically, it's Daisy, but I'll knock your teeth out if you call me that."

She made a note to remember that. "I'm Harley."

"Nice to meet you, Harley. I see you know my cousin."

She pointed at Rosie, who shrugged. "Our family has a thing about flower names."

 _"My cousin was set on being a teenager from the beginning, and I didn't want to have to fight with her every day."_ Harley suddenly understood Rosie's words. What would happen if Brent ended up becoming supreme leader? "Oh."

"Enough with the pleasantries." Dukes waved it away. "Listen up, Harley. Or, should I say, 'read up'? Listen up sounds better. Anyway. What do you think of things so far?"

Her eyes bore into hers, as if daring her to lie. Harley smiled. "I feel like I fit in here. I never got along with most of my old sector, and Numbuh 571 hated my guts. It's a breath of fresh air."

"And what if I told you that breath of fresh air is dying?"

Fear sparked in her chest. She stood her ground. "I'd do anything I could to try and save it."

Dukes nodded, pleased by her answer. "Every year, we get less and less teens who are willing to fight for what they want. Now they all do stupid stuff, like get into fist fights. They don't want to put the effort out there. They don't want to take a chance." She sighed, suddenly looking very somber and very troubled. "I'm afraid our organization is dying, and we have no way of bringing it back to life."

"We could... ask for help?" She tried.

Her head snapped up. Dukes eyes burned with passion. "We have our _pride_ , Harley. You have to _want_ to be one of us."

"The Kids Next Door has a boot camp for a reason, you know. To pick out who really wants to fight and who doesn't." Harley put her hands out in front of her in a vague gesture. "It wouldn't hurt to give it a try."

"We _have_ tried. We don't have enough instructors for that." She glanced away, then turned back to her. "So, how about it? Are you willing to be part of a dying breed?"

"Is there any other option?" She asked, eyebrow raised. "I'd be honored."

Dukes nodded and patted her on the back. "Good."

* * *

"So, um." Harley shifted the heavy armor in her arms, stumbling down the base stairs from their weight. "Where do I even put this?"

"Stick it in the closet." Jess nodded to the door in the far corner she'd assumed was for storing weapons. "It's where we keep all of them."

"Why don't we ever use these things?" Harley tugged open the door, looking at him over her shoulder as she felt around for a place to put them. A few weapons brush her fingertips, but she didn't pay them any real heed.

"Too heavy for proper sneaking. Besides, they're mostly for ceremonial purposes these days anyway."

She set the helmet down on some hook. "I like it." She also liked how quick and personal her welcome had been; a few clicks to a keyboard and a shot to the arm, so they'd always know where she was. It'd deactivate in a few years, or so Dukes had said.

She liked a lot of things about being a teenager, she'd find.

 **Author's Note: Harley is a pack animal by nature, and Dukes is incredibly prideful. To the point she is part of the reason the organization is decaying, yes. =)**

 **Time skip coming up! Nothing too drastic, I promise.**

 **-Mandaree1**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Codename; Kids Next Door!**

 **Title: An Earful of Nothing**

 **Summary: The teenagers, fearful of breaking the fragile peace between themselves in the KND by admitting their own lack of numbers, are desperately searching for new members. Numbuh 313, a twelve year old girl who is in danger of being decommissioned early due to an injury that's led to a slight disadvantage on the battlefield, fits the bill.**

 **...**

 **ShugoYuuki123 \- They've split away from Father, if that's what you mean. =)**

 **nightmaster000 \- No other pov's, I'm afraid. Only time will tell on the other stuff.**

 **Flowerchild23 \- More is here!**

 **...**

Harley feels something tug at her shoulder, and turned to see Brent staring up at her through his lashes.

"Happy birthday."

"Oh." She awkwardly rubbed her arm. "Thanks."

"Is there anything you want?"

 _You. Our friendship. To be real siblings again._

"No. Nothing." She hesitated, swinging her legs. They were going to ride the bus today; not a fun experience when you're the scourge of the school. "Your birthday is coming up in a few months. Is there anything in particular that you want?"

He looked away slightly, just enough so that she could still make out his lips. "No. Nothing."

Thirteen, she thought, almost dreamily. _This_ was the day she would've actually lost it all, had things played out differently. The day they would've tied her down in front of everyone and zapped her memories away. The concept, which had once made her feel brave, sent shudders down her spine. Her days as an operative, cut short as they were, are important to her; and no one had the right to take that away from her. She'd fight for it.

"So, do I have to go undercover now? Run away from home?"

"I dunno." He shrugged. "No one's said anything, so I guess you're off the hook."

Her disbelief melted under the honest confusion in his eyes. "Yeah? Well, that's good."

"Yeah." Brent snarled, clenching his fists. "Good."

"I'm sorry. I know this is important to you."

"It should be important to _you_."

" _You're_ important to me. The sector was important to me. It still is. _You_ still are."

He snorted and fell silent.

"Listen, Brent. I know I messed up; not warning you. But this is getting stupid. Kids and teenagers aren't even enemies anymore."

"For now." He uttered.

Harley bristled. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Only that teenagers can't be trusted!" He threw his hands in the air. "We may not be enemies, but we'll never be friends."

The lurch in her belly told her Brent had a point. The Kids Next Door would never reach out to the older boys and girls without good reason, and, as much as she respected her, Dukes was too proud to take that first step.

 _If I was leader_ , she thought, _I'd change all that_. She pushed it away. Harley had never really planned on becoming leader of anything; when they were choosing Boxer, she had hidden away in the basement with other members of her sector. No, a soldier was all she would ever be.

"We may be untrustworthy, but we'd never break the treaty." She answered, and left it at that.

* * *

Harley hovered anxiously beside the cheap birthday cake, watching the candles flicker with distaste. "Do I really have to do this?"

"Go on." Curls prompted. "It's cool."

"Not when you're Kids Next Door." Rosie hummed knowingly. "Getting a birthday cake is a death sentence."

"Then it's a good thing we're not them, then." Jess answered simply; Harley watched them distractedly, only half-catching what they were saying. "They worry about age too much. 'Specially considering they already _have_ a Teens Next Door."

Harley jerked a little in surprise, but it made sense that they would know about the TND; teen spies were notorious in having slackened their restraints after the signing of the treaty, and it was rare that they were treated as anything more than jokes; after splitting with Father, the teenagers had shown no real interest in planning much of anything.

"Blowing these out makes me feel like I'm severing all my ties to them." She admitted sheepishly.

"Which you already have." Jess reminded her, eyebrow raised.

"True enough." She conceded. "Brent and I argued this morning. He says we're untrustworthy. I think it got to me, is all."

Rosie scoffed. "No more 'n anybody else."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Harley breathed in to blow out the candles.

"I'll bet you anything, if anyone breaks the treaty, it'll be those Kids Next Door." Jess proclaimed as the last candle went out.

As if to prove a point, the first explosion sounded directly thereafter.

* * *

There was a surreal quality to it all, for Harley. Smoke was everywhere- not detonation, but smoke bombs; nothing too dangerous-, and she felt herself be thrown from the couch, but all there was in her mind was a ringing.

She flashed back to the platoon, to marching in on Dad's home during the siege- a knockoff evildoer of shirt tail relation to the infamous Father; he'd recently retired completely to focus on other adult things, expressing a disgust with children running rampant through his house- with a weapon in hand, air fleets flanking them. The disturbingly innocent image of the root beer candy rolling towards her will always haunt her dreams.

She hit the concrete floor and rolled to her hands and knees. She couldn't see soldiers, nor hear the cries of her teammates. She was back in the base, and just as helpless as she had been before, on the battlefield.

"They're here!" She wailed. Or, it seemed like she wailed. Harley was no longer entirely aware of what her vocal cords possessed in sound, but the words _hurt_ being ripped from her throat. "They're here because of me!"

A hand grasped her shoulder firmly. Harley almost didn't think to jerk away.

"It's me!" Rosie called, but she was unable to make out the words in her panic. Strong arms lifted her off the ground. "Remind me to teach you sign language when this is over! And, uh, to learn!"

Rosie bounded up the steps like a startled rabbit, Harley half-in and half-out of her arms, dodging when an arm came out of the mist to try and catch her. The halls were empty, as it was late in the evening, and she took twist and turn after twist and turn to make sure they got away. Finally she let go, leaning against some lockers to catch her breath.

"Can you see?"

"Yeah, I can see." She reached up to rub at her eyes experimentally, making sure of this fact, a bitter frown on her features. "My first action in ages, and I freeze up like a cadet."

"I'm glad you did. Might not have found you so quickly otherwise." Rose stiffened. "I hear them."

"What're they saying?"

She silently shook her head, yanking Harley up by the arm. "We gotta go."

Harley sprinted to keep pace with her. "But what about Jess and Curls? Shouldn't we wait for them?"

"We have a meeting spot. They'll be there." Rosie's lips twitched in fear of a lie as she pulled on the back doors frantically. "Locked. Gonna have to kick it open."

They raced into the growing darkness outside. Sometimes Rosie urged her to stop and wait, or to go faster, but Harley never saw a single face as they moved forward.

 **Author's Note: Happy 13th birthday, Harley! Welcome to angst and acne forever! =)**

 **As I've said before, this is just a prequel to a story I plan to eventually write, in which Harley will make the odd appearance. It's mostly just an explanation of the importance of the Numbuh given to our main character there; someone you'll meet eventually, when I start that one up.**

 **You've also met an semi-important villain; Dad! I promise you, not every enemy is a knockoff of the original. Just, like, two. But those Delightfuls'... they're a powerful lot, is all I'm saying. And not in the way you might think.**

 **And, hey, some action! More info on Harley's injury! Holy moly!**

 **-Mandaree1**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Codename; Kids Next Door!**

 **Title: An Earful of Nothing**

 **Summary: The teenagers, fearful of breaking the fragile peace between themselves in the KND by admitting their own lack of numbers, are desperately searching for new members. Numbuh 313, a twelve year old girl who is in danger of being decommissioned early due to an injury that's led to a slight disadvantage on the battlefield, fits the bill.**

 **...**

 **Shugoyuuki123 \- Nobody knows! Well, _I_ know, but other than that, nobody knows!**

 **...**

Rosie led Harley by the wrist through a cul-de-sac a few blocks away from the site, dodging brightly lit circles of light from the street lamps to avoid detection. She didn't say anything the rest of the way- or, if she did, Harley couldn't hear her- but her heart thudded frantically in her chest all the same.

She stopped in front of a plain white two-story, checked the numbers painted along the side of the black mailbox in clean and blunt writing, then nodded to herself. "We're here."

Harley squinted at the rest of the block, filled with houses that looked more or less the same. "How can you tell?"

"I visit here on the weekends." She dismissed her concerns. "Come on. We need to get moving."

Rosie confidently jogged across the stones leading to the white porch steps and onto the porch itself, Harley following. She did a quick once over to make sure they didn't look too suspicious before politely knocking on the door.

An old woman Harley would later come to know as Jess's grandmother answered, and promptly ushered them into the living room, which was bare, save for an old couch, some chairs, and a television set.

"Poor things." She fretted, brushing a stray hair from Rosie's face. "You all look so lost. I'll go make you something to eat. Full bellies make for strong minds."

"Thank you, ma'am." She replied simply. Harley clasped her hands around her front and quietly waited for her to leave the room.

Jess, seated at the couch, head hanging low, his clothes in various degrees of disarray, seemed to be waiting for this as well, and waited until her footsteps had faded to lift his head. "You made it out okay?"

"Some bumps and bruises, but nothing major." Rosie promised, strutting the few feet between them and the couch to sit cross-legged on the plush carpet. Harley took up a space nearby. "Curls?"

Jess slowly shook his head. "I waited in some bushes outside until they left, but he never appeared." He cleared his throat. "They were hauling something big."

Shame burned Harley's throat and made her eyes water. She bowed her head, suddenly feeling very much like an outsider. Some soldier she was. If she hadn't been so busy panicking, she could have helped Curls escape. Rosie, without being forced to carry her around like a ragdoll, could have easily taken out one or more of their attackers. Her fears may very well have been caused the downfall of their squad.

Harley shook the thought away. Ignoring the conversation and ducking away like this was even more cowardly than losing herself under pressure. She clenched her fists, set her jaw, and looked up.

"...already calling a meeting." Jess was saying. "She's hopping mad."

"The attack only happened a few hours ago!" Rosie exclaimed, eyes wide. "How'd Dukes find out so fast?"

Harley could hazard a guess, and she didn't like what she found. "This wasn't an isolated attack, was it?"

They both turned to her, catching something in her voice Harley couldn't personally distinguish. She hoped it was fitting, whatever it was.

The blonde boy nodded. "Over half of our bases in the past two days. They've been destroying communication devices: Dukes- and, in turn, us- only just found out. Somebody hitchhiked all the way across the country to tell her personally. And we're lucky she was just on vacation; her whole squad was taken out right after she got word that something broke in."

Rosie seemed to be shaking out of the corner of her eye, but Harley didn't turn to properly check. She didn't want to bring too much attention to it.

"All out war, then." She stated.

"Looks like it." Jess agreed. "And I think we all know who did it."

A bubble of something molten popped in Harley's gut. "Do we know for sure?"

"Who else could it _be_ , Laugh?" Their leader blinked down at her. Harley thought she detected something like hatred in his eyes; not for her, personally, but for who she was defending.

Jess had taken this to heart, as the others had. There was no reasoning that could be done that wouldn't fly right over his head.

"Let's go grab a snack before we hit the road." Rosie broke into the tense moment, gently grabbing her by the shoulder. "S' gonna be a long night."

* * *

There was no busing it, on this occasion. Two teen males- one pale and blonde, the other a dark coffee with curly black hair- were waiting for them outside the house with a transport. They eyed her warily as she got in, and demanded they check her person for listening devices before they set off.

Harley received the same treatment once again at the entrance of the base, and felt her cheeks burn with indignation as they descended down the smooth metal walkways. She'd never been suspected of treason before.

The main base was empty of all life; the training rooms were cleared out, the bunks were locked, and the guards were stiff enough to be robots. Harley noticed they'd emptied the one room of war memorabilia- probably just to check it for bugs.

Rosie snatched up her hand as they were led into a room filled with teenagers, many of whom were nursing injures. Bandages were being passed around, and she swore she could almost hear their cries as they searched out friends.

"This doesn't look like much of an infirmary." Was all she could think to say.

Rosie squeezed her fingers. "It's not." She replied, voice grim, although she couldn't hear the shift in tone. "It's a band room."

"After all, who bugs a band room?" Jess scoffed, coming up on the other side. The lack of a fourth member was like an open wound. "It's the perfect place to have a meeting in private."

"You think the base is under observation?" Harley demanded. She had no recollection of such things being discussed during her time as an operative, but, then, things had changed since she was gone. _She_ had changed.

"I _think_ Dukes has every right to play it safe." He answered simply. "After all that's happened, paranoia isn't necessarily a bad thing."

The doors swung open soon after, and Dukes marched in, clad in her full armor, long hair and bangs tied behind her back with a tie and headband. The guards shut and locked it behind her, and the crowd parted like the sea for her as she walked. And who could blame them, she thought, watching her carefully step over a bed-ridden teenager without so much as a second look. This wasn't the passionate young woman she'd met months ago- this was a battle-hardened leader whose people had been rampaged. Shoulders straight, chin high, she pulled herself onto a platform Harley assumed was for a conductor and stood with her hands behind her back, examining them with a cold fire in her eyes.

"Hush!" A male voice shouted. An uneasy silence fell, and Rosie, fearful that Harley hadn't caught on, clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Hey!" She whisper-yelled, pulling the hand away from her. Harley hoped her voice was at a reasonable level; not too quiet as to not be heard, but still low enough to be polite. "I _know_ to be quiet when Dukes is talking, Rosie. That's respect one-o-one."

"Sorry." Rosie looked sheepish. "I'm really anxious. Not thinking things through."

"Rosie, stop babying the newbie." Jess scolded, as lightly as he could. "And, Harley, you're grabbing too hard."

"Oh. Sorry." She let go.

"Yes, sir, dad, sir." Rosie rubbed her arm. "Seesh."

Somebody said; "Shh!" They fell silent.

Dukes seemed to take in every face in the cramped room before speaking. "Every single one of you in here, from all across the world, have something in common. Each of you was brutally attacked in a time of peace."

She stopped so the teens could glance around and murmur, then continued. "As we speak, the non-affected squads of our ranks are risking their lives to thrust their hands into the wreckage and look for buried allies. An' I mean that literally; some of our most private and important places have fallen to rubble."

She started to pace, stopping here and there to spit out the odd bit of words. "Almost all of us here are missing teammates- we're missing whole _Squads_. Squad D and Squad Q have yet to be located. I sent my best scouts to try and locate them. They never returned."

Step, step, turn. Step, step, speak. "I will admit, we have been searching out loopholes to terrorize the odd sector. We've broken the rules. But nothing worth a deliberate invasion into our weakest places. A slap on the wrist was all our troublemakers needed."

Step, step. "The Kids Next Door has changed. First, they've broken their own rules, forcing us to take on perfectly good operatives to avoid an unnecessary mind-wipe. And now they've broken the treaty. I suppose that makes _us_ the fools, for hoping _children_ could respect and appreciate the laws we set for each other. But never again."

Harley pushed her way to the front of the seated crowd. "Dukes?"

She stopped. "Yes?" Her face softened a bit, and she almost looked like the Dukes Harley admired.

"Do we have definite _proof_ this was the Kids Next Door's doing?"

She didn't have to look to know she was being booed. Perhaps some were even accusing her of being a traitor. But she needed to know.

She needed to know if _Brent_ knew. She didn't care about anything else.

Dukes slammed her fist into a hard steel wall and bellowed to be heard. " _We do_ not _attack our own, do you hear me?_ Harley is a loyal person by nature, and I don't want to hear any talk otherwise!" She turned to her with a respectful nod, voice lowering. "We have proof in how organized the attack was. Besides, who else could it be? We haven't been involved in the grand scheme of things in ages; we don't even have a _side_ anymore. It was the Kids Next Door. No doubt about it."

Harley squeezed her eyelids shut to banish tears and made her way back to her squad. It felt like she was boiling underneath her skin. She wanted to hit something. Kick, scream. She sat down.

 _So, this is betrayal._ She mused. _No wonder Brent hates me._

Dukes stood as still as a statue while she waited for the crowd to get settled in. "When I took the oath of leader," she said, "I never actually thought I would see this day come to pass. Prayed against it, I think. But I can't be blind to the needs of my own."

She spread her hands out. " _You_ all are the ones who are the victims here. I've read a billion reports, and felt your rage- but that makes no difference. I wasn't there. I didn't see it. _You are the ones hurting._ If anyone will want revenge, it's you. I brought you all here to heal, and to answer this simple question; do we, The Teenagers, break the treaty completely and declare war on the Kids Next Door?"

There was a hush. Harley blankly grabbed her wrist, but Rosie answered before she could speak.

"You read right."

"But... why? Dukes is leader; she doesn't need our permission."

Jess tapped her shoulder. "She knows she's proud, Harley. She wants to make sure she's not alone in her thinking, or acting against what we want. Speaking of." He glanced at Rosie, then her. "Are we in agreement?"

He saw something in her eyes Harley didn't, and proceeded to stand. "Dukes, no matter what the choice may be, know that Squad O is with you."

"All of you?" She asked bluntly, and Harley found herself nodding.

"All of us."

She fixed her a fierce look. "Against your own brother?"

"They attacked my teammates." Harley replied, and found it really was that simple. That feeling she had. "The team has to come first."

Dukes eagerly jerked her head in an approving nod and smiled at them before resuming her old mask of calm politeness. "Will anyone else join Squad O? Better yet, do you have any objections?"

A brown hand raised itself. A small Indian boy, propped up against the wall, held an ice pack to his face as he spoke. "They took my squad, Dukes. Lemme join."

"My sister is gone!" A shrill voice wailed. "We have to get her back!"

"My cousin was in Squad D. I can't just give up on them." Another stated, close to the front. "They'd do the same for me."

"This place is the only home I've got, and they can't jus' take it away from me!" Towards the middle, distinctly Southern.

"My little sib is Kids Next Door. I've heard the stories. Those brats deserve a paddling!"

The leader's neck jerked like a bobblehead to give equal attention to the shouts coming from all around the room, most of which went right over Harley's head, most of which were also in a wide array of languages, some of which the ever-informed woman couldn't recognize despite her best efforts. Another call for silence made them stop.

"Your voices have been heard. We begin training as soon as we can collect ourselves." Dukes paused, brow furrowing sternly. "And this knowledge doesn't leave this band room, you understand? They gave us a surprise; I think it's only right we return the favor."

 **Author's Note: Yay, war! But, with no evidence pro or con, and weak as they are, is it really wise, do you think?**

 **-Mandaree1**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own Codename: Kids Next Door!**

 **Title: An Earful of Nothing**

 **Summary: The teenagers, fearful of breaking the fragile peace between themselves in the KND by admitting their own lack of numbers, are desperately searching for new members. Numbuh 313, a twelve year old girl who is in danger of being decommissioned early due to an injury that's led to a slight disadvantage on the battlefield, fits the bill.**

 **...**

 **ShugoYuuki123 \- Dukes seems to think so!**

 **Flowerchild23 \- Let's hope!**

 **...**

"Fourteen years old." Harley's mother sighed, jerked the steering wheel a bit too hard as though jerking the car out of her nostalgia. She grabbed onto the passenger door for dear life, struggling to read her face while she was at it. "Your first day of high school, and on your _birthday_. That must be stressful."

A ball of anxiety _had_ taken up residence in her gut, but it certainly wasn't from making it to freshman year. "I'm fine, mom. Promise."

"Scared?"

She thought of how awful middle school had been compared to now, going to the very place she'd been sworn into, where Rosie and Jess and Curls (someday) hung out, and felt like she was on much safer ground.

"Excited." She reassured her. "But not scared."

Harley stepped inside the familiar long hallways, feeling her confidence dampen at how crowded they were compared to the stillness of after hours. She could only imagine how loud it was. The image of so many lockers slamming shut and teenager's talking with the world on mute had an almost surreal quality to it. Glancing down the room number's printed in dull black ink, she made an oath to come up with a system later, to avoid getting swept up into anything problematic.

A brown arm wrapped itself around Harley's shoulders. She jumped, then realized it was Rosie and relaxed.

"Hey, girl." She said. "You need help finding first block?"

Rosie prattled on about maybe sharing lunches and what stairwell led where, but Harley wasn't focused on that. She stared at the girl's fluttering hands, reading the signs she made. They'd been busy, this summer.

" _Wanna skip?_ " They said.

" _First day?_ " Her fingers were much more clumsy than Rosie's, taking their time to spell out the words. The older woman had been practicing extra hard, just for her. It warmed her.

Harley caught her grinning out of the corner of her eye. " _Successful first day skippers are some of the best recruits you can find. It takes some serious guts: not to mention skills_."

" _Not that you would know_."

" _Of course not_."

Rosie had her trek up a flight of stairs and march to the very back halls, empty and dusty from lack of use, to duck into a secluded restroom.

"Dukes wants to talk." She said, bringing up Facetime on her phone. Harley's model was too old to be of any use, barring the odd text message.

"Is it time already?" She'd been under the assumption they had months yet before the battle came.

"No." Rosie said. "But it might as well be."

Harley raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"You aren't gonna like what she has to say." With that, Rosie grimly handed the phone over and went to guard the door from diligent hall monitors.

She sucked in a deep breath and toggled through her contacts. She set the phone to speaker and turned on the subtitles- she preferred reading over puzzling out digital lips. The jarring sound of a rather bland ringtone echoing around the tile walls went unheard.

"Yup." Dukes greeted. Harley could clearly see her draped over strategy books and maps, busy and irritable. Her room was dark, and she was seated at a mangled old school desk, an office chair in place of the typical metal seat.

She brought the bottom end of Rosie's cell close to her mouth to be heard better. "You've got bad news for me, I've been told?"

There was a pause. Judging by the lack of a loading circle in the corner, signaling a frozen screen, it wasn't from a lack of translation.

"Oh. Hey." Appears eventually. She's not quite turned to the phone, which seems to be placed on the very edge of the table. "Was wondering if you'd show up. I'm lucky to be homeschooled- I can get my work done quicker and then focus on my own pastimes."

Harley didn't know whether to take her blathering as a sign of lack of sleep or as nervous energy, although she preferred the former to the latter. The thought of somehow scaring her own leader put a strange weight in her chest.

"So," She prompted, "the bad news."

Dukes took in a deep breath, though Harley could only barely see it. "It's not _bad_ news: it's just gonna make you wanna punch me in the face."

She almost laughed. "Do I have permission?"

"To punch me in the face? If we were in a different situation, I'd say yes- but not right now. I've got to keep my strength up. Doesn't help morale to have the leader be hurting in times like these, you know?"

"Dukes, you're stalling."

"That I am. Listen, Harley. All this war talk- it's scaring people. You know I wouldn't force anybody to fight, right?"

Harley nodded even though Dukes wasn't looking. She wondered if the woman was getting a vague idea of how _she_ felt; separate from the rest, only communicating from her cell phone to faceless people, hidden away at the base. "I know."

"Good, good. But not everybody does, you understand. We've had frantic drop-outs all over the place. It's disgraceful. Let's hope those _runts_ never find out." Another pause, this one venomous. "Anyhow, with such a dramatic discharge, we've also had a _huge_ amount of new volunteers. Untried and untested newbies 've been creeping outta the woodwork like you wouldn't believe, _especially_ after so long of just a trickle of new agents."

Harley's heart sped up, then sunk. "Dukes, wait. I think I know where you're going with this, and I don't like it."

"Thought as much." There was a hint of finality to her words, to the way they ended so bluntly on the screen. "Want to punch me yet?"

"I respect you too much for that." She dismissed, leaning against the pink tile wall. Of all the places to receive a promotion, the girl's bathroom wasn't exactly where she envisioned it. "I do kinda wanna run away now."

"Will you?"

"Nah. I don't have anywhere else to go." She contemplated pressing the end button, however, before finally surrendering herself to the fact that she was too cowardly to stand up for herself in such a loud way. "This is a mistake."

"No." Dukes said. "This is an order. The fresh meat needs a few poundings to set them on track. You're just the woman to pound them."

"I'm too young." She tried. "I'm new to all of this. People are _still_ trying to tack the title of "KND spy" on me. It's too early."

"In this case, that's exactly why. You're fresh out of the Kids Next Door. You _fought_ , and you _lost_ , Harley. This isn't some game to you. You know the price to pay with ignorance."

"With all due respect, Dukes, I literally made it five steps into Dad's Lair before I was blown away." She clenched her fists against an onslaught of memories best left forgotten. The walls had been mahogany brown. She didn't know why she remembered that more than the battle itself. "I _slept_ through the failed invasion. In a _ditch_."

"Exactly five?"

"Exactly." She agreed. "I've counted them enough times to remember. Sometimes.." Harley rapped her shaking fist against her chest, trembling like a leaf. Her heartbeat was still there. She was still alive. The walls had trembled and turned black with char. "I dream about it a lot."

"All the more reason." Dukes said, giving her a moment to collect herself before continuing. "You've been through something horrific; but _you're still here_. That sort of loyalty is exactly what they need to learn."

She watched her nibble on a thumb nail, eyes squinted from a lack of light and sleep. The stress must be terrible, indeed.

"I don't have an option, do I?" She said eventually.

"Nah. Not really. Come by after school- I'll assign you your trainees. Dukes out."

Harley stared blindly at the phone a long moment, until Rosie gently snatched it away from her, face blank. Harley didn't doubt she had also been pulled into becoming a training instructor.

" _Wanna skip_?" Her hands said.

"Yes." She said.

 **Author's Note: Being deaf isn't horrific. Being caught up in a small explosion and getting carried out in shambles _is_.**

 **More of a filler chapter, but going straight into battle would be un-wise, even for an impatient woman like Dukes.**

 **-Mandaree1**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own Codename: Kids Next Door!**

 **Title: An Earful of Nothing**

 **Summary: The teenagers, fearful of breaking the fragile peace between themselves in the KND by admitting their own lack of numbers, are desperately searching for new members. Numbuh 313, a twelve year old girl who is in danger of being decommissioned early due to an injury that's led to a slight disadvantage on the battlefield, fits the bill.**

 **...**

 **ShugoYuuki123 \- It seems so!**

 **Flowerchild23 \- Thanks!**

 **Zanybro \- I'm so sorry! I wasn't aware of that at the time of writing the chapter.**

 **...**

Harley knows the type. She's worked with it many times before. Straight shoulders, condescending air. It seems like her troop is full of them.

It was in bitter memory of her old drill Sargent that she marched before them, chin high. Even at fourteen, Harley only went up to the average teen's chest, and she almost felt self-conscious about it.

"Let's cut to the chase, newbies. I'm here to train you to be the very best you can be. It won't be easy, and it won't be nice. _I_ won't be nice. Keep your head up, however, and you'll be given the greatest honor that can be given."

Rodney looked just shy of thirteen, and, while she couldn't hear it, had the voice of helium balloon. He called her name, realized that wouldn't work, then raised his hand and waited.

"Yes?"

"What honor, ma'am?"

"I can't tell you. I'm afraid you'll just have to trust me on this. Those chosen will then have the chance to accept or deny this honor. No one will hold it against you if you refuse. Have I made myself clear?"

"Clear, ma'am!"

"Good." Harley couldn't tell if everyone had answered, but she could read the nearest soldier's lips. "Next order of business. Do we have any recently AWOLed Kids Next Door operatives in the room?"

Two hands went up; Rodney and another boy- Kyle. Something sour simmered in her gut.

"I see. Hopefully it was out of a wish to do more against our oppressors, and not out of a silly attempt to escape decomissioning. I apologize now for the suspicions with which you may be treated by, but I'm sure you can understand our reasoning, right?"

Even as small as she was, Harley towered above Kyle. The red-headed boy swallowed. "Yes, ma'am."

The boy beside him put a hand around Kyle's shoulders. He was the aforementioned type of recruit.

"I don't think we should have to take orders from some kid." He told her.

"Take it up with Dukes." Harley said. "Until then, you will refer to me with the level of respect I've- apparently- earned."

He smirked. "Or what?"

There was a stiff silence- or, at the very least, she perceived one- as she kicked his legs out from under him, restraining and threatening him simultaneously with an arm pressed to his windpipe.

"I've marched the lairs of villains, taken down huge tyrannical corporations, and lost a close friend of mine very recently." She told him. "Do not test me."

"Yes," he gagged, "ma'am."

Harley let him go. "No spine. We'll have to work on that. I am not your _friend,_ recruits. I am worse than your greatest enemy. It has to be that way. Let's get started."

* * *

Months after the fact, Dukes called a meeting in her throne room.

Rosie was there, with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. She seemed to have taken to her new role very well. A Haitian man with a side-shave and a medium-sized Japanese girl with strong-looking hands came from the other end of the hall; Lion and Kichi, both nicknamed after the animals that inspired them as children. They weren't close, nor particularly thought of themselves as friends; they just happened to be coming from the same direction.

Harley recognized a few others from the hodgepodge of Sargents shuffling around the cold room. There was Blitz in the corner, and Snowdrop near the front, and even Smoke, quietly hiding behind her hair.

Dukes coughed into her fist. The room fell silent. "We got the team, and we got the weapons," she announced, "but we still don't got a place."

A small-built woman stood. "Surely, any place would be good?"

"Naw. You wanna make all this effort, then blow it all on some random raid?" Lion spat. "Dukes, if I may, I suggest we take on Sector V."

"Interesting suggestion. Why?"

"The memories. Sector V is a golden sector. Even now, it serves almost as some sort of memorial for its greatest operatives. We destroy that, we destroy their spirit."

"But it's hardly populated." Kichi chided. "We need a high casualty rate to make them pay for what they did to our own."

"Better to destroy memories than operatives." Someone called. "Memories linger longer."

"Until they blast them away like they do." She retorted sourly. "If we copy-cat them, would it count as lazy fighting or making a point?"

"Lazy fighting."

"Release all their prisoners?"

"Then _we'd_ have to deal with them too."

"Dukes," Harley stepped forward, clenching her hands into sweaty fists, "are we doing this to win, or are doing this to salvage our pride?"

"Win, of course!" Another girl exclaimed. "How else would we get our revenge?"

"Good point, Harley." Dukes replied steadily. "I would have to say to salvage our pride."

"Then it doesn't matter if we win, so long as we make our statement?"

"More or less, yeah."

"Understood." Harley strode over to the map laying out on the only table and not-so-gently slammed her hand down onto it. She thought she saw Lion flinch. "Then I say we go big. Forget little raids or insignificant memorials; I saw we attack the Moon Base."

She turned back to the others to read their reactions.

"You'll get us killed!" Snowdrop wailed. Smoke gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

"We're doin' this for pride, not for safety." Rosie was saying, begrudgingly. "It's a scary thought, but we could pull it off if we're careful."

 _Please_ , she prayed quietly, _don't let Brent be there. Don't let him find out it was me_.

"To think, there are people who call you a traitor." Dukes said, after a pause. She looked thoughtfully pleased by her obvious unhappiness with the plan she herself had brought up, for the better of her Squad. "Mighty bold idea."

"Exactly. We'd go down in history."

"And they'd know better than to mess with us." She probed. "It's not a _bad_ idea."

"We'd lose soldiers, ma'am!" Smokes reported. Her voice was quiet; very unnatural for her body, which was tall and broad.

"We already have. One hit on the Moon Base- even if a failure- would makes the Kids Next Door rethink their next move. I like it."

Harley swallowed around a heavy pit in her throat. "Yes, ma'am."

 **Author's Note: Nonchalantly slides you a reference to my fav MLP OC (not mine, mind you), my own gem OC, as well as a character from the old Jungle Book TV series.**

 **More of a filler, really, but we'll really be kicking up dirt next chapter.**

 **-Mandaree1**


End file.
